This is how a street race usually goes: drivers meet near the designated race location. Racers buy-in. Bookies collect bets, then pool money. Drivers use their cars as the blockade; twenty, thirty, or more, plod along the highway – or on a side street, although that carries the risk of residents, jolted awake during the race by the whizzing of engines accelerating to upwards of 100-150 miles per hour, alerting the police. The racecars lead, lined up like the first row of a marching band in a parade. Traffic slows. Commuters wonder what the hold-up could be. It’s the middle of the night.